


Training

by ZeAwesomeBirdie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Fellowship of the Ring, M/M, Weapons, Weapons Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21878188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeAwesomeBirdie/pseuds/ZeAwesomeBirdie
Summary: Legolas has been complaining about Gimli since the Fellowship had set out from Rivendell, and has annoyed Aragorn and Frodo so much that neither step in when the dwarf instigates a very intense weapons practice.
Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 84





	Training

“Elves are fundamentally different from dwarves, Aragorn. I refuse to be friendly to any dwarf.” Legolas crossed his arms, huffing.

“My friend, he has done you no harm. Remember, it was your people who kept his father and cousins captive all those years ago. In fact, if Bilbo Baggins’ memory may serve fairly, you were present at the time of their capture.” Aragorn glanced up from sharpening his sword just long enough to see the elf prince frown.

“No, I believe you may be mistaken,” Legolas said. “I helped the dwarves of Erebor-”

“Only after your father went to wage war, need I remind you,” Aragorn cut in. They had had this discussion almost every time they were alone since the Fellowship had set out two weeks ago, and the dark haired man was growing tired of it.

“And why should we believe the memories of a hobbit?”

“Perhaps because us hobbits tend to be more accurate with familial memories than you may expect,” Frodo Baggins said as he walked into the campsite with an armload of sticks for the fire.

Legolas spluttered as Aragorn barked out a laugh.

“Do my words surprise you, prince?” Frodo asked kindly, smiling. His Sindarin was rusty, but he was pleased to have been able to work on the language at Rivendell, both with Bilbo and the elves.

“My sincerest apologies, Frodo son of Drogo,” Legolas finally said.

Nodding, Frodo sat down on the edge of the clearing just as three more hobbits and Boromir appeared. Merry and Pippen were singing joyously, while Sam was deep in conversation with Boromir in regards to the proper cooking of the foraged roots and the like. Legolas sat down next to Aragorn with a defeated thump.

“Where is Gimli, friends?” Aragorn asked, finishing up with his sword.

“He’s coming!” Pippen called, dropping the sticks he was carrying. “Will you be joining us for weapons practice today, Strider?”

“I may yet, I may yet.” The man chuckled. “It may be best for all of us to keep on top of our wits.”

“If you and Boromir train the hobbits,” Legolas said darkly in elvish, “I would have to train with the dwarf.”

Frodo sighed, then cut in in Sindarin before Aragorn could respond, saying, “And to what pleasure may we have your complaints on our journey, dear friend.”

Blushing, Legolas retorted, “I will do as asked of me, not due to pleasure, but to necessity.”

“Would you lot stop speaking in tongues and go back to Westron so we may all enjoy the banter?” Merry asked as he arranged his foraged mushrooms, earning a glare from the elf.

Gimli finally huffed his way into the clearing, carrying an armful of logs. The hobbits greeted him cheerfully, but Legolas grumbled under his breath at the sight of him. Aragorn nudged the elf discreetly, attempting to stop his complaining.

“Hobbits!” Boromir called, unsheathing his sword, “It is time for practice. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Pippin yelled, jumping up and promptly tripping over a misplaced rock.

“With that kind of coordination, you’ll get yourself killed on the battlefield, Pip,” Merry said, unsheathing his own small sword and laughing.

“Please join us, Strider,” Sam asked Aragorn, as Merry and Pippin attempted to do a double attack on Boromir.

“Alright, Sam, you’ve convinced me,” the man said as he stood. “Come on, Frodo, you as well.” He unsheathed his freshly sharpened sword and prepared to help the two remaining hobbits on their footwork.

After watching the hobbits and men for several minutes, Gimli said, “Elf. We must train as well.”

“I will hardly associate with dwarves,” Legolas argued. “It is not necessary for me to train, as I have spent nigh over a thousand years practicing with my bow, and nearly five hundred with a dagger.”

“If that is the case,” Gimli said, “Why don’t you show your prowess with the dagger against my axe?”

“I doubt that is necessary, dwarf. Five hundred years is longer than your lifetime-”

“Show me, then, elf.”

Seething, Legolas stood, unsheathed his dagger and raced towards the dwarf. Gimli easily blocked the attack, laughing.

“Is that really all you have for close combat, elf?” he taunted.

As they parried, the hobbits stopped training to watch. No matter how fast Legolas attacked, Gimli blocked him every time. After a few clangs of the dagger against the axe, Boromir started pointing out the footwork to Pippin and Merry, who nodded along. Aragorn took a seat on a bit of log that was nearby, and Frodo sat next to him on the ground.

In Sindarin, Frodo asked, “What do you think, Strider?”

“I believe, master Frodo, that this could either end very good for all of us, or horribly bad,” Aragorn said, smiling reassuringly down at the hobbit.

“I wonder what Gandalf would think of this,” Frodo mused, “Where is he?”

“Either looking ahead, or looking behind. We are approaching dangerous territory, as you know.” Sheathing his sword, the dark haired man patted the hobbit’s shoulder. “Do not worry, he will return shortly.”

Legolas gave a shout of pain, and leapt away from Gimli, shouting, “That was a sneaky trick! How dare you!”

“You claim to be better at the blade than a dwarf, and yet, a dwarf has landed a hit on you!” Gimli shouted back at him, putting his small dagger back on his belt.

The hobbits silently observed as the two yelled at each other for several minutes, then Pippin asked Boromir what had happened.

“I have not a clue more than you,” the man admitted, “But come now, we must practice your footwork. Pippen, Merry, at the ready!”

The pair of hobbits jumped back into action, and Sam, after waiting a moment longer to see if Aragorn would get back up, joined them in their attacks against Boromir. Legolas had retreated to the far side of the clearing and was frantically pulling up his sleeve to see what damage had been done. Gimli sat himself as far away as possible from the elf and the rest of the Fellowship.

“Do you think you should say something, Strider?” Frodo asked.

“It is not my place,” Aragorn said. “I believe the two of them will be just fine, however. Shall we get that fire started, Frodo?”

* * *

When the rest of the Fellowship was occupied, Gimli stood and quietly wandered over to where Legolas was sitting. The elf glared at him, but said nothing, and turned away from him. He sat down right next to him.

“Let me look at it, elf,” he asked roughly.

“Why should I, dwarf,” Legolas countered.

“I may be able to help you clean it, I have the proper ointments for such things.” Gimli was glaring at the elf, but his expression softened when he turned towards him.

“Do you? And why would you care so deeply about this?”

“I remember the first time such a move was used on me,” the dwarf explained, putting out his hand.

Legolas allowed him to take his arm and inspect the cut. It wasn’t deep, but very painful, and still bleeding. Gimli took out a salve his uncle Oin had crafted, and spread it over the cut, stopping the bleeding and reducing the pain immediately. He then took a length of light fabric and bound the cut lightly.

“There,” he said.

“Thank you, Gimli,” Legolas said quietly. “I am indebted to you.”

Laughing, Gimli said, “Do not be ridiculous, elf. It was common practice, after training. We are expected to assist any whom we have injured during such practice.”

“Still, I thank you. How can I be of assistance to you, now?” Legolas pushed.

“I suppose, if you are that insistent, I would appreciate if you could assist in the crafting of a bow. I am out of practice, and if more than a few of the Fellowship could do ranged attacks, it would be rather helpful for our party.”

“Of course. I have some extra bowstring for such a purpose.”


End file.
